


Tears

by samchandler1986



Category: GLOW (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:31:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samchandler1986/pseuds/samchandler1986
Summary: She makes it outside before the tears come, but it's a close run thing.





	Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Mini fic prompt fill! Thanks to my prompter. Master list @ https://samsylviasmoustache.tumblr.com/post/166245887319/send-me-characters-and-a-letter-and-ill-write if you want to request your own :)

I

She makes it outside before the tears come but it’s a close-run thing.

It’s just the way the job is sometimes. She knows that. But some words stick under the skin, too close to childhood taunts to shake off.  _Don’t take it personally_ only cuts so much ice when they’re dissecting her apparently less-than-adequate ass. Within earshot.

She roots in her bag for a tissue, sniffing—

“Hey.”

The blonde knockout. The one with legs for days; big hair, big smile, big… well, she doesn’t need to draw a picture.  _That_  one. The one that almost certainly got the part. Standing in front of her, holding out a tissue.

“Uh, thanks,” she manages, dabbing her face. “Allergies—”

“Yeah, um, I know it’s… none of my fucking business. But I just wanted to say – don’t listen to those idiots in there. Your audition was… amazing. I really mean it. You’re  _so_  talented and they clearly don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Thanks,” Ruth says, frowning confused. “You… didn’t get the part either?”

The blonde wrinkles her nose. “Oh, no. I apparently have too  _much_  ass.”

“What? That’s  _crazy_ ,” Ruth babbles, “your ass is…”  _Perfect_ , she just about manages not to say. But there’s no non-awkward way to end the sentence instead, leaving her with mouth hanging as her brain struggles in vain to save face.

“Debbie,” says Debbie. “My ass is Debbie. The rest of me too.”

“Ruth,” she replies, relief steaming off her. “Do you… do you want to go and grab a drink or something? I could really use—”

“Oh, thank God. Yes.  _Yes_. Do you know anywhere nearby?”

“Yeah,” she says, hoping it’s true, “I think I do.”  

* * *

 

II

She puts down the receiver and it’s like a plug is pulled, all the joy she felt at hearing Debbie’s good news draining out through her feet. Debbie is going to be on TV. Debbie is a soap star.

And Ruth is… Nothing.

She tries the sentence again in her head.  _I am_ …

Sobbing, is suddenly the answer. Crying with a ferocity she didn’t know was possible – hot tears streaming down her face, body shaking. She falls to her knees, almost unable to breathe.

It’s not jealousy, she tries to tell herself, hiccoughing and half-blind. It’s grief, grief for a career it seems like she’ll never have. It can’t be jealousy, can it, because she was so happy for Debbie on the ‘phone… so happy…

Eventually the tears stop and she goes to wash her face with some cold water. Tells her reflection to  _get over it_. Like the crying never even happened: her feelings have been exorcized by the tidal wave of emotion.

And she almost believes herself.


End file.
